Separated
by MelWil
Summary: Fiona has to look after herself. Spoilers for 3.10. Do not spoil me for series 4 or 5!


**Title: Separated  
****Author: MelWil  
****Fandom: Spooks  
****Rating: PG13  
Summary: His voice chokes up, and he can't finish the sentence. Post 3.10  
****Spoilers: Up to and including 3.10. Please do not spoil me for season 4 or 5!**

* * *

"I thought I'd lost . . ."

His voice chokes up, and he can't finish the sentence, but she pretends she doesn't hear it. He buries his face in her sodden hair, and she pretends she doesn't hear, doesn't see anything. Not the ambulances with their relentless, silent lights; not the special branch officers with their heavy guns and their serious game faces. Not the heavy, black body bags, or the strangled, stricken looks on Harry and Ruth's faces.

She pretends she doesn't see the traces of loathing under their grief.

She can still smell the petrol, still feel it drying on her skin. She can still see the glimmer of the flame as it approached her, still feel the searing, painful heat that never came.

"I want to go home."

She whispers, and her voice is too soft, and there's no way he can hear her. There are things he has to do, anyway; questions to answer, people to answer to. He's distracted by a million little things, and she's become just another thing to see to.

She pulls away from him, pushing her hair away from her face, wincing as her fingers hit a tender spot. She can see Ruth across the way, her head bent low over Danny, tears falling down her face. She feels like she should be walking over there, that she should be joining Ruth. That she should share in their grief, share in their horror. That she should pretend to be part of the team.

But her feet seemed planted in the ground, and Adam's arms are around her again, and she wonders if anyone really sees her as part of the team.

She's only there because Adam Carter is there. And if she hadn't been there, Danny wouldn't have died.

She finds herself alone in a car, surrounded by strangers, a thin blanket wrapped tightly around her shoulders. Ruth has gone with Danny, while Adam and Harry are needed to tie up the loose ends, to talk to the important people. Everyone decided she should return to Thames House.

She feels like she should insist on seeing her son, that she should play the part of 'good mother'. But her son feels like a foreign concept, and she just wants Adam's arms around her again. She just wants to escape to a place where no one knows what she's done.

"Ms Carter."

She looks up, surprised at the kindness in the policeman's face. He reaches out and squeezes her shoulder for a second. "We're here."

She nods, fighting the impulse to run, and follows him out of the car. She has no choice, she's expected to follow directions, to be professional. She's expected to be part of the team.

The grid is crowded, but quiet, and she searches for the kind face, for the refuge she requires. Malcolm meets her; a stiff smile on his face, a warm hand on her arm.

"Harry asked that you wait in his office."

"Thank you."

Harry's office is too quiet, too separated from the rest of the grid. She paces the floor, watching the others through the windows. She knows they are watching her, talking about her.

She waits for minutes, hours, days . . .

Adam returns first, placing a chilled hand against her cheek. She leans into it, depends on it, until he pulls it away and she is alone again.

"Are you okay?"

There's a long answer and a short answer and neither is appropriate. "I want to go home, Adam."

"Harry wants . . ."

"Stuff Harry," she can feel the tears, hot and angry, and she makes no attempt to wipe them away. "Stuff Harry and stuff MI5 and stuff the service in general. Just stuff it all."

"I know how you feel," he looks out the window into the heart of the grid, and she knows everyone is looking at them, and she just doesn't care anymore. "But we need to stay here to be debriefed."

"I need to be at home." she walks to the door. "I need to be with you and my son at home."

She walks from the office, and out of Thames House and no one tries to stop her. She is alone, different, separated from the people she works with. She never really was one of them, and she doubts she ever will be.

She's just got to look after herself.


End file.
